Was this in Mexico?
No, idiot. Cuba. You cant tell a Mexican accent from Cuban? Then she rattled off something that he actually understood. Hed picked up some Spanish from working construction, and from when he was incarcerated, too.
I might be ignorant, but Im not a pig, he said.
So, you understand Spanish. Am I supposed to be impressed? There, your wretched head is fixed for now. I think youll live, unfortunately.
Her tone sounded closer to teasing than hateful, which pleased him no end. God, he was stupid, looking for crumbs of good humor from a woman hed kidnapped. He was stupid for being attracted to her, too, but no one had ever accused him of being smart.
Hed been an idiot to shove Elena into his truck. More than likely, his ploy would only succeed in landing him in prison and wouldnt help Eric at all. But nothing else had worked. This plan was all he had, and he was determined to get as much out of it as he could.
As Elena gathered up the trash and threw it into a wastebasket, Travis pushed himself to his feet. His eyes swam for a moment, but then the world righted itself.
Ill be back in a few minutes. You cant escape from here, and no one can hear you, so your best bet is to just stay calm. If your boss is a reasonable man, hell give me what I want, and Ill let you go.
And if he doesnt give you what you want? I doubt he will. Daniel doesnt negotiate with people like you.
Im willing to bet your welfare is important enough to him that he will.
And if he doesnt?
He would let her go anyway, of course. Then he would turn himself in and take his lumps.
CHAPTER THREE
WAIT. CANT WE talk about
Travis slipped out the door and slammed it in her face. He couldnt listen to her. He couldnt look into those chocolate-brown eyes without feeling his resolve softening. It was time to contact Daniel Logan.
The bedroom was empty except for one straight-back chair in a corner. Travis remembered dragging it in there to stand on so he could open an air-conditioning vent. One of the chairs slats was broken, which was why he hadnt tried to sell it.
He could fix it; he hated throwing away perfectly good stuff that could be repaired and provide many more years of service.
The broken slat wouldnt affect the use he put it to. He grabbed it and shoved it under the bathroom doorknob.
Dont leave me in here! Elena screamed at him through the door. Please, please, I cant stand it.
He turned resolutely and walked out the door.
Hed turned his cell phone off the minute hed nabbed Elena so he couldnt be located by the phones ping. He wasnt sure how fast Daniel Logan could mobilize whatever people and resources he had, but probably pretty damn fast. The guy was powerful. Still, it was possible Elena hadnt even been missed yet. If she had a lot of autonomy on the job, her absence might not be unusual.
Travis got in his truck and drove. Hed been driving for twenty minutes before he realized he should have gotten Daniels private number from Elena. The only number Travis had was for Project Justice. Well, that would have to do.
Once he was miles away from the repod house, in some nameless, nondescript neighborhood, he pulled over, got out his cell, turned it on, took a deep breath and dialed.
Project Justice, how may I direct your call today? The woman who answered had a tone of voice that didnt match the polite words. She sounded like an older ladyprobably that dragon whod manned the front desk the time hed dropped in at their offices, hoping to convince someone to listen to him.
Celeste, that was her name. Good afternoon, Celeste. My name is Travis Riggs. There was no point in trying to hide his identity. Please listen carefully, as Ill only say this once. Ive kidnapped Daniel Logans assistant, Elena.
You did what? Celeste shrieked.
God, the woman could shatter eardrums. Please, dont talk. Just listen. Shes safe and unhurtfor now. My demands are simple. Project Justice must take on the case of Eric Riggs, my brother, who was unjustly convicted of his wifes murder. Have Daniel Logan personally call this number and leave a message, indicating that he agrees. Have him provide me with this detailWhat piece of the victims jewelry went missing?to convince me he really did investigate the case. When he does that, I will return Elena unharmed and turn myself in to the authorities. Do you understand?
Now, you listen here, young man. Daniel Logan doesnt negotiate with
Do you understand?
There was a long pause before Celeste answered. Perfectly.
Ill check my messages in twenty-four hours. He disconnected and turned off his phone. Despite the cool fall weather, he was sweating. He opened the window and cursed. Making that call had sickened him. But he had to keep thinking about Eric, sitting in that six-by-eight jail cell. And little MacKenzie, who was so traumatized by her mothers death that she had withdrawn from the world. Now her father was gone, too.
Travis could have accepted temporary custody of MacKenzie. His brother had tried to get him to do just that; MacKenzie seemed fond of her uncle Trav, and there werent any other relatives except Tammys aged grandmother, who was in a home. But at the time decisions were being made, Travis had thought MacKenzie would be better off with foster parents who could spend time with her and help her adjust. A single construction worker who worked seven days a weekand who intended to spend any spare time he had helping Eric prove his innocencewasnt a fit guardian for a three-year-old.
Even if Travis had been willing to take MacKenzie, Social Services probably would have nixed the idea. Ex-cons were hardly considered prime parent material.
Now he wished hed at least tried to take responsibility for his niece. Her foster parents were moneygrubbing lowlifes who only wanted to adopt MacKenzie so they could get hold of her future assets. Eric had been financially comfortable when Tammy was murdered, but Tammy came from serious money. When that aged grandmother died, her wealth would pass directly to MacKenzie. Without a trust fund in place, her parents would get control of the money.
Traviss own brief experience as a foster kid had been positive, and hed based his decision on that. He hadnt counted on the foster parents from hell.
Travis got his truck moving again. He needed to get back to Elena. It just now occurred to him that if something happened to Travissay, a fatal car accidentno one would know where to find his hostage. It could be months before anyone went through that house. She could starve to death.
He didnt take another full breath until he pulled onto Marigold Circle and everything looked quiet and peaceful. No cop cars or news crews lurked in the cul-de-sac. Even as he pulled around to the back of the house, he half expected cops to spring out of hiding, guns drawn, as he exited his vehicle. But nothing happened.
He let himself in the back door. Hi, honey, Im home.
* * *
ELENA TOOK STOCK of her situation once again, as it had evolved. It could be a lot worse, she conceded. She had no serious injuries; she hadnt been molested. And as far as prison cells went, this one wasnt bad. The sink provided running water, the toilet worked and she could even take a whirlpool bath if she wanted to.
But there was no way out. The door wouldnt budge; shed thrown all of her weight against it several times and nothing had happened. She couldnt reach the skylights, and even if she could, she doubted they would break easily. Shed found a can of hairspray and had attempted to throw it with enough force to break the glass, but those windows were designed to withstand hail. Even if she broke one, what then? She couldnt magically fly up to it and escape.
She wondered what Daniel would do when he found out shed been abducted. He was loyal to his own people; she couldnt believe he would allow her to be killed just to make a point that he didnt negotiate with criminals. And Travis wasnt asking for the world; he only wanted someone to take on his brothers case. But currently Daniel was dealing with something more urgent than his personal assistants life. What if the new Logan power plant was in imminent danger of a meltdown? That was the sort of global disaster that would definitely take precedence over one persons welfare.
If Daniel didnt respond to Travis, would Travis understand why?
She heard a door open and close and immediately got to her feet and went to the door. Help! Help me, please! Im trapped in the bathroom! It was probably Travis, returning from wherever hed gone. But just in case it wasnt...Help! she shouted again, slamming her palms against the door. Her right hand still hurt where shed hit Traviss shoulder.
Im back. It was Traviss voice. She slumped with disappointment even as her heart lifted slightly. It was really odd, but despite everything, she still felt sympathetic to Traviss causemore than when shed first listened to his story. Was this what they called Stockholm Syndrome, when a hostage started to feel affection for her captor? Surely it wouldnt happen this quickly.
Hey, she yelled. Are you going to feed me? Because I skipped lunch. While I was supposed to be eating lunch, I was trying to get you some time with Daniel.
And I appreciate that. Really, I do, he said. Ill get you something to eat. Sorry, I hadnt even thought about food. I guess when your stomach is tied up in knots you dont notice if youre hungry or not.
Well, I do. And Im hungry.
Ill see what the people who lived here left behind in the way of food.
Great. It sounded like she was in for a tasty meal of stale saltines, and maybe a can of cold soup if she was lucky. Travis didnt seem the type who could whip up a four-star meal out of nothing.
She waited a long time. She stood, she sat, she recited poetry to herself, verses memorized years ago in school. Listen, my children, and you shall hear... When she ran out of poems, she paced the bathroom, counting the steps from one end to the other and back, and then multiplying by each circuit she made. How long did it take to check the pantry? Maybe hed gone out for fast food.
She was almost to five thousand steps when an incredible smell reached her nostrils. What was that? Oregano? Garlic?
Travis tapped on her door. I brought some food.
Are you waiting for me to give you permission to enter? she asked incredulously. Im a prisoner, not a princess.
Just because Im a kidnapper doesnt mean I dont have any manners. He opened the door and entered the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind him, but at that moment she probably wouldnt have run even if she could have. She wanted to know what was on the tray, covered by the dishcloth. It smelled amazing.
He looked around, trying to figure out where to set it down.
On the vanity, she suggested. Earlier, shed found a sponge and some bathroom cleaner under the sink and had given the place a thorough scrub. If she was going to be held prisoner, at least her cell would be clean. What is that?
Lasagna.
Like, a store-brand frozen-dinner kind, or the homemade kind that someone froze the leftovers?
Does it matter? I already had a taste of it. Its not half-bad. He set the tray down on the pink marble vanity and whisked the cloth off. Hed served her a good-size square of the lasagna on a china plate with a knife, fork, spoon and cloth napkin. There was also a serving of broccoli. A cold soft drink and a glass full of ice completed the picture.
You forgot the vase with a rosebud.
Huh?
She turned her head so he couldnt see her smile. Never mind. This looks delicious. Then she added a grudging, Thanks.
Holding you hostage is bad enough. I dont intend to mistreat you while youre in my custody. He gestured toward the tray. Go ahead. Sorry theres not a chair.
She didnt care. She ate standing up.
Whoever lived here sure could cook, she said after a few hasty bites had dampened the worst of her hunger. She slowed down so she could appreciate the subtle spices and tangy tomato sauce. Is there more of this?
This isnt enough?
For later, I mean.
Oh. Yeah, theres a whole pan.
Tell Daniel he can take his time meeting your demands.
When he looked at her like shed gone raving mad, she shrugged. Im kidding, of course. She toyed with a broccoli floret. It wasnt as good as the fresh stuff Cora always served at Daniels table, but with a little bit of lemon butter on it, it wasnt terrible. So whats going on? Did you talk to Daniel?
I didnt have his number. I called Project Justice. Figured theyd get him a message.
She took that news with some alarm. Depends. Whod you talk to?
Celeste. The dragon lady?
Oh, I know who Celeste is, she said grimly.
You dont think shell get word to Daniel?
She might. Or she might try to launch some kind of pseudo-SWAT-team rescue on her own. You never know about Celeste. I took a road trip with her once to Louisiana. Made the mistake of letting her drive.
Travis laughed. That bad?
She wanted to stop at a bayou crossing and look for an alligator because she needed a new pair of boots. And she wasnt kidding.
She doesnt strike me as a fool. Shell do what needs to be done.
I wish I shared your certainty. When will you know?
I gave Daniel twenty-four hours to leave an answer on my voice mail. All he has to do is convince me hes looked into the case.
Thats it? He just has to say, Travis, youre right. Theres been a miscarriage of justice. Im going to make everything right for your brother?
Thats a start. I also demanded proof he really has looked into the case. Hell have to provide a detail thats never been released to the public.
Not to blow holes in your plan, Travis, but Daniel can learn every detail about that case, inside and out, in about ten minutes. He has teams of researchers who can get the information in front of him so that he can provide the details you want.
Thats good. Thats all Im asking for. That, and his word that hell take on Erics case, that hell assign investigators and give it his best shot. I understand Daniel is a man of his word.
Well, he is that.
I believe once he looks into it, hell see what Im talking about. Hell see Eric really was railroaded by an overzealous D.A. and a gutless defense attorney.
You do realize Daniel is married to the Houston D.A., right?